NOTE: Here is a fun little mini-screenplay of something that happened to me today. Yes, this really happened, just this morning. Bitchy has become a recurring character in my life, and as she is a fellow mother at my child’s school, there is almost nothing I can do to avoid her. The best I can do is to dish her Bitch right back! (Sub-note: I am not a screenwriter, therefore I do not know the technical requirements of writing a screenplay. This is just me, explaining in what I hope is a humorous way, a not-so-humorous encounter.)
Our main character – let’s call her Kimberletta – is standing in the parking lot of her daughter’s school, talking to her own mother – let’s call her mother June. They are having an animated discussion as Kimberletta reenacts a scene from the night before, when Kimberletta’s 4 year old daughter (let’s call the daughter Alex) threw a fit of epic proportions at the local public library.
Kimberletta: “She literally jumped down every single stair, going ‘I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna!'” [imitates jumping]
June: [shaking head in disbelief] “Wow…”
From across the parking lot enters the character known as Bitchy. Bitchy is holding the hands of her two presumably perfect little children, and when she calls out to Kimberletta, it is in a high-pitched, smartass voice, as if she is addressing a mentally retarded person who also happens to be hard of hearing.
Bitchy: “Oh Kimberleeeee!”
Kimberletta turns to the sound of the voice, and her heart drops. She contemplates running and hiding, or possibly throwing a grenade across the parking lot and then ducking for cover. Unfortunately, there is no time. She also has no grenade.
Bitchy: [still in smartass sing-song voice] “Which child are you talking about?”
Kimberletta: [adjusts her voice to match the absurd sing-song tone] “Alllllleeeexxxx!”
Bitchy feigns a look of utter disbelief, as if this is the most horrific thing she has ever heard. Meanwhile, June’s smile has become frozen on her face, as she clearly struggles to maintain a pleasant facade. It is highly likely she is imagining drop-kicking Bitchy across the parking lot. If she were young enough to understand the term “drop-kicking”, anyway. Which she is not.
Bitchy: “Really?!? Sounds like she’s acting like this one.” [Points at her own 2-year-old, with raised eyebrows, in a clear implication that Alex’s behavior is not up to snuff.]
Kimberletta: [raising voice even louder, with a terrifyingly large smile on her face] “Sounds like she’s acting like A FOUR YEEARRR OLLLLLD!”
Kimberletta’s smile is almost maniacal at this point, as is June’s. Bitchy, as wrapped up in herself as she is, takes these smiles as a sign that they have recognized her superiority and are moments away from falling at her feet in worship.
Bitchy: “A four year old? Really?!? When mine does that, he gets in BIG TROUBLE.“
Kimberletta: [her eyebrows are raised so high that they have disappeared into her hairline. She feigns a look of surprise at Bitchy’s words and even gasps a little, putting her hand to her chest] “SO DOES MINE!!”
Kimberletta then turns to June and speaks very rapidly and firmly.
Kimberletta: “Sorry, I’m leaving. Bye!”
Kimberletta exits the scene by jumping into her car (which is actually a car borrowed from a friend, but that is a story for another time) and driving out of the parking lot before either June or Bitchy has a chance to speak again. There is a short exchange between June and Bitchy, during which time June’s frozen smile looks positively painful on her face, and then the event is over. Kimberletta makes a mental note to inquire as to what was said between June and Bitchy, at a later time. Right now, her only priority is getting home and crying a little over her inferiority as a mother. Or blogging this encounter as fast as she can, before she forgets any of the details. Whichever.